Wings of Destiny
by crystalrose4
Summary: Next ch. up! Fate indeed is a powereful opponent as Margaret soon finds out after returning to the future. After losing everything Margarete finds she has both gained and lost more than she expected. Begins ME, may become MHom, depending on my mood.
1. Intro

Wings Of Destiny  
  
Introduction  
  
Disclaimer: "In Liverpool" belongs to Suzanne Vega  
  
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In Liverpool on Sunday  
  
No traffic on Avenue  
  
The light is pale and thin  
  
Like you  
  
No sound down in this part of town  
  
Except for the boy in the belfry  
  
He's crazy, he's throwing himself down from the top of the tower  
  
Like a hunchback in heaven, he's ringing the bells in the church  
  
For the last half an hour  
  
And he sounds like he's missing something or someone  
  
That he knows he can't have now  
  
And if he isn't, I certainly am  
  
Homesick for a clock  
  
That told the same time  
  
Sometimes you made no sense to me  
  
You lie on the ground  
  
In somebody's arms  
  
Probably swallowed some of their history  
  
And the boy in the belfry  
  
He's crazy, he's throwing himself down from the top of the tower  
  
Like a hunchback in heaven he's ringing the bells in the church  
  
For the last half an hour  
  
And he sounds like he's missing something or someone  
  
That he knows he can't have now  
  
And if he isn't, I certainly am  
  
I'll be the girl who sings for my supper  
  
You'll be the monk whose forehead is high  
  
He'll be the man who's already working  
  
Spreading a memory all through the sky  
  
In Liverpool on Sunday  
  
No reason to even remember you now  
  
~~~~~~*~~~~~~ 


	2. Following the hands of time

Collateral Damage Chapter one: Following the Hands of Time  
  
** This takes place after a mix of a 'B' and 'C' ending. I thought it'd be interesting, anyway. I'm not sure about the title, but I couldn't think of anything else. So...  
  
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"I want to go back, even if it means being alone."  
  
Margarete pouted as she lay on her bed, fully dressed, staring at the ceiling. "It seemed like such a good idea at the time." She thought, rolling over and resting her chin on the pillow. "But now I'm beginning to regret my decision." She sighed and dragged herself into a sitting position; her head felt like it weighed a ton. She rubbed it as it slowly pounded, screwing up her eyes against its throbbing.  
  
"So much had happened that night that I was afraid to stay any longer. I was so scared... But now, after four months I feel that strange pull towards the future that I felt when Eike came and told me those stories." She sighed again. "Eike... what have I done?" At that moment she chuckled, despite the pain in her head. She didn't know what she found so amusing, but it felt good to laugh for a change.  
  
At that moment there was a light tap on her door.  
  
"Oh. Come in." She stood up and attempted to smooth out her hair. Her aunt poked her head in.  
  
"Margarete, I'm going down to the bakery. Would you like to come? I really think you could use some fresh air."  
  
Margarete lowered her eyes to the floor and blushed guiltily. After watching her house fall in on Hugo, she had shut herself up in her room until recently. She could still hear Hugo screaming 'Mother!' in the moments before she woke up every morning. "I- I'm sorry..."  
  
"There's no need to feel sorry, dear." Her aunt smiled sympathetically. "Not after what you've been through. The thing to do is pick yourself right back up and charge at life again. I'll be waiting downstairs while you clean up." She departed, and Margarete gave a small smile.  
  
"Thank you." Margarete responded weakly before picking up her brush off her dresser and quickly running it through her hair.  
  
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Margarete had to shield her eyes from the harsh light of the sun as she stepped outside with her aunt. She squinted as they made their way down the ever-familiar streets in silence.  
  
Stopping outside the bakery door, Margarete's aunt slapped her right fist into her other palm. "Oh! I must have forgotten. Dear," she turned to Margarete. "Will you stop by the butcher and ask them if they could get me a rack of lamb ready by late afternoon? I'm not quite sure how busy they are..."  
  
"Of course." Margarete set off at once, humming as she wound her way around houses and shops. She no longer had to cover her eyes, so she could enjoy the view much better. She had forgotten how beautiful everything was.  
  
After making the order at the butcher's, Margarete bumped into Dana, who smiled brightly.  
  
"Margarete! It's good to see you outside."  
  
Margarete smiled in return. "It's good to be outside. What have I missed?"  
  
Dana laughed and shook her head. "Nothing, unless you count the old hags in the square going at each other again."  
  
Margarete still wasn't used to the way Dana spoke, but didn't really mind too much, considering she understood what she was saying in general. "Oh, I can only imagine what they've been saying about why they think I've been inside continuously."  
  
"Not to mention the stuff they've been screeching about your father's and brother's disappearance." After saying this Dana quickly covered her mouth with a hand took a sharp intake of air; it was fairly obvious she had said a bit too much. "Oh, Margarete. I'm sorry- I-."  
  
"No, no. It's- I... It's about time I got over it anyways. I've got to pick myself up and charge back at life!" She felt a little funny repeating her aunt's words, but they were true, and they gave her strength. She smiled again, and Dana returned it after a dubious moment.  
  
"Anyways," Margarete continued, "let the old crones talk." She waved goodbye to Dana and continued to the bakery, slower this time. After a bit of thinking she walked over to the square, and watched the group huddled in heated conversation.  
  
"If lightning strikes anybody down, it'll be those three." Margarete thought bitterly. "Loud dress indeed!"  
  
Her eyes wandered a bit, and rested just south of the square. From where she stood she could see the door to her old house, and suddenly, she was walking, as if possessed, towards the ruins.  
  
She stared at the unhinged door curiously. "What happened to Hugo that night?" she wondered. "I never heard a thing, but... did he actually see mother?"  
  
Shivering slightly she tentatively pushed the door open, and carefully made her way through the debris.  
  
"M- mother?" she called softly, feeling foolish. She heard something move around under her feet, and, in her excitement, ran down the basement stairs.  
  
Margarete gasped slightly as a mouse scurried across her foot. "Just a mouse." She thought sadly. She shook her head angrily. "This is ridiculous! I'm acting like a fool! Mother is dead. They're all dead." As she made her way back up the steps, she halted suddenly. She turned slowly to look at what had caught her eye; the time machine Hugo had used to take them to the future. She walked over to it and brushed some of the dust off of the dials.  
  
"It can only follow Eike's time machine." She recalled Hugo saying as he had dragged her down the steps.  
  
"It's still here." She murmured. "Eike..."  
  
She frowned and withdrew her hand. "No. I shouldn't. If I am Eike's ancestress, then I shouldn't put Eike's existence in risk by returning to the future." Margarete sighed, and closed her eyes for a moment. Then, realizing something, she snapped them open. "But I wouldn't be endangering it if I were just VISITING." She turned back towards the time machine. "All right, Eike. Let's see if I can remember how Hugo worked this contraption."  
  
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Okay, now everybody can review and tell me what they think! Yes, yes. All you Homunculus fans can see him in the next chapter, however briefly. Like I said in the summary, it totally depends on my mood if this will be a romance flick or not. Who knows, I may even have the cutie killed off. Muahahahaha!  
  
Here's an interesting fact, Homunculus means dwarf or runt in the dictionary. Hee hee. ^-^ Bet he was teased a lot in grade school for that one. (So that's what he meant by there's not much in a name. Right.) 


	3. Tears and blood

Collateral Damage Chapter 2: Tears and Blood  
  
** This chapter is even shorter than the first, it was mainly meant for a cliffhanger. So...yeah.  
  
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Margarete wrapped her arms around herself instantly, as she appeared in a snow-covered alley.  
  
"Oh my." It wasn't exactly what she had expected, but she didn't worry about it too much as she made her way to her house  
  
She walked in and found just a hollowed out shell. The staircase, and all of the doors, including the one to the basement, was gone.  
  
"I suppose I'll just have to ask Eike to return me to my original time when my visit's over." She closed the door and made her way to the square. It was empty; everyone was probably at the bar warming up.  
  
Margarete strolled down the nearest street, deciding to find one of those clothes shops. She'd surprise Eike if she found him at the bar.  
  
Halfway down, however, she stopped when she heard heavy breathes coming from nearby. Curiously, she looked around the snow-laden trees off to the side of the road until she found the origin.  
  
Margarete gasped. "You! You're--."  
  
The familiar black clad figure straightened up and looked at her. He smirked. "Naughty naughty, someone's not in their own time." He shook his head still smirking. "Come to see your mother then? I'm afraid you're too late."  
  
Margarete blinked. "My mother? What are you talking about? My mother died five years ago."  
  
Homunculus stood up. "So he didn't tell you then. I guess he didn't figure it out." His dual-voiced chuckle sent chills down Margarete's spine.  
  
"He's talking about Eike." Margarete thought. Then to Homunculus, "Where is he? Where's Eike?"  
  
Homunculus turned his back to her and shrugged boredly. "How should I know? And anyways, you'll not likely find him here. This is twenty years before his existence."  
  
Margarete dashed forward and grabbed the genie's frail arm. "Then take me to his time!" when she received no answer, she squeezed harder. "Do it, or I swear I'll."  
  
Homunculus glared at her, then smirked again arrogantly. His body disappeared suddenly, slipping from Margarete's grasp, who gasped and back up a couple of feet.  
  
"Why not?" Margarete heard Homunculus chuckle again, and swiveled around to see him pull out his digipad. "This could prove to be quite entertaining."  
  
She suddenly found herself in a bubble with him, and soon they were soaring through time to the future.  
  
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They arrived in the square just behind the statue. Margarete saw a red machine with two boys in it. "A car, I think my brother called it." She thought.  
  
"Hey mister, you shouldn't lay in the street, you might get run over!" After yelling the warning the boys took off, swerving drunkenly through the streets.  
  
Wondering whom they were talking to, Margarete walked around the statue, and gave a small shriek.  
  
There, lying broken and bloody on the ground, was Eike.  
  
Margarete dashed to his side, tears streaming down her cheeks as she knelt beside the fading life. "Eike! Eike please, don't you die on me too!"  
  
"Dear, dear." Margarete looked up as Homunculus strolled up to Eike. "Looks like my bad feeling was correct."  
  
Margarete looked at him in horror. "How can you say that?" She screwed up her eyes in pain and yelled at him. "THERE'S BLOOD EVERYWHERE, AND ALL YOU CAN DO IS CONFIRM THAT YOUR 'BAD FEELING' WAS CORRECT?!?!"  
  
She sobbed into Eike's shirt. "You're a monster."  
  
"... Oh well." Margarete heard a couple of footsteps, then silence. She looked up, and through the tears, found nothing.  
  
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Yeah, yeah, so I killed him off. Well, technically the game killed him off; I just acted upon it. Anyways, Homunculus is a guy in this story. For those who hadn't guessed already. 


	4. Unconfidential

Wings of Destiny  
  
Chapter 3: Unconfidential  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Shadow of Destiny, and I am making no profit whatsoever by making this story  
  
A/N: Ok, I'm not exactly sure what goes on when police interrogate you, so sorry if it doesn't seem too... convincing. I tried. I also didn't know Margarete's height or Dana's last name, so obviously I just made them up. ^-^;  
  
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Sirens blared loudly as police cars and an ambulance truck filled the square. Margarete was helped to her feet by two officers, who immediately began asking questions as Eike's body was lifted onto a stretcher and placed in the ambulance.  
  
Margarete stared after the body, now covered by a white sheet, completely ignoring the two men's interrogation. She had no desire whatsoever to recount the night's experience; it was far too painful.  
  
"Ma'am? Ma'am!"  
  
Renewed tears glistened in Margarete's eyes. Why wouldn't they just leave her alone?  
  
"What!" She demanded. Perhaps if she answered their questions, they'd go away.  
  
"Did you know this man?"  
  
Margarete stared at the officer, appalled by the stupidity and obviousness of his question. She bit back a sarcastic remark and nodded, "Yes."  
  
"Can you tell us your name, please?"  
  
"Uh... Margarete Wagner." The other man who had been standing there scribbled something down on his clipboard.  
  
"And can you tell us what happened here?"  
  
Margarete squeezed her eyes shut, forcing out the painful images of Eike's body lying in a pool of blood. Then she looked up at the officer and said, defiantly, "No."  
  
The other man scribbled something on his clipboard again. After finishing, he looked at Margarete's dress, as if for seeing it for the first time, and then whispered to his partner, who nodded.  
  
"Miss Wagner, do you have any I.D. on you?"  
  
"I.... D...?" Margarete repeated cluelessly, staring blankly at the officer.  
  
"Identification." He explained, almost impatiently.  
  
Margarete furrowed her eyebrows questioningly, but answered as best she could. "Well, I'm five feet and four inches tall, brunette, age twenty, and..." But the officer cut her off with his hand.  
  
"Nevermind. Just... do you have you social security card with you?"  
  
This time Margarete was completely off-guard. "My... what?"  
  
"Social security card." He repeated, beckoning a few officers to his side with a wave of his hand. At the sight of a new pair of officers, Margarete became flustered.  
  
"I... uh... no, I... I don't know... what?" Margarete looked around frantically as two guards took her by each elbow and began ushering her to one of the squad cars.  
  
"Don't worry." Explained one of them. "We're just going down to the station for a bit of an investigation."  
  
Margarete had no choice but to sit quietly as they drove off, leaving teams of other officers behind on the scene.  
  
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"The man was identified as Eike Kusch, age twenty two. He died of a broken neck, and also contained a few shattered ribs." A young man, who continued to type into the keyboard in front of him as he spoke, reported this information to one of the officers that had brought Margarete in."  
  
The officer looked behind him through the office window at Margarete, who sat staring at her feet sullenly, closely governed by the second officer.  
  
"Oh wow." The young man murmured. The officer turned back to face him, leaning on the back of the man's chair.  
  
"What is it, McGuiver?"  
  
"Reports have been filed about a missing woman, Dana Sturdevant, age twenty, last seen with our Mr. Kusch." McGuiver glanced up at the officer, who had a studious look upon his face, and then back to the computer. "She 'vanished' a couple hours before Kusch's death. Apparently, her boss called her, and when he didn't receive an answer, paid a visit to her apartment."  
  
"But no one was there." The officer concluded.  
  
"With the exception of all her belongings."  
  
There was a pause, in which the officer cupped his chin in his fingers and 'hummed thoughtfully. McGuiver watched him expectantly.  
  
"Look up a profile for Ms. Wagner." The officer ordered.  
  
"Yes sir." There was more typing, and then silence as the computer scanned for files. "... There are no existing files for a Margarete Wagner."  
  
"Can you connect her photograph to any profiles?"  
  
McGuiver's fingers flew across the keyboard again, attempting to match a scanned photo with other files.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
The officer stared at the screen for a moment, then straightened and walked out of the Office.  
  
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Margarete looked up as the officer approached her. "May I go now?" She asked hopefully.  
  
"Not just yet. Now, can you explain to me, Ms. Wagner, why we could not find your profile on our computers?"  
  
Ignoring the fact that she had no idea what a computer was, Margarete smiled sheepishly.  
  
"Oh, well, I haven't been born yet and I... oh..." Margarete placed a hand over her mouth, realizing she had said too much. The officers exchanged glances.  
  
"You mind repeating that?"  
  
Margarete's face flushed as she stammered. "Um... I... uh..." she trailed off with a small, sort of hysterical chuckle.  
  
The officer before her gave his partner a meaningful look, before pulling up a chair in front of Margarete and straddling it backwards.  
  
"And- ah- how exactly did you end up here, if you haven't been born?" He asked politely.  
  
Margarete hesitated. Should she really be telling this man all this? She had already said much more than she meant to, she didn't want to affect the future.  
  
"I promise I won't tell." He persuaded.  
  
Margarete continued to stare at the floor as she told her story.  
  
"A time machine, huh?" The officer had nodded at his partner, who returned with a pair in white uniforms. Margarete had not even noticed that he had left. "So tell me Margarete," The officer continued. "Do you have any family, or anyone that... takes care of you?"  
  
"No." Margarete said quietly. "No one."  
  
"Well, Margarete, these people would like to help you." He said, indicating the strangers.  
  
A plump, middle- aged woman with fading red hair smiled at her and gently touched her shoulder.  
  
"Hello, Ms. Wagner. My name is Doctor Spinnit, and we'd like you to come with us. We're going to take care of you."  
  
Margarete pulled out from under the woman's hand. "Oh, that's all right, I know how to take care of myself." Suddenly Margarete was aware of the situation she was in. "No, really!" She exclaimed, standing up. "I'm quite sane, you really don't have to worry." She made to move towards the door, but one of the officers grabbed her. Margarete struggled. "No! You don't understand! Please, let me go!"  
  
Dr. Spinnit nodded at the other doctor, a tall, gaunt man with a grim and sallow face. He bent down and lifted something from a bag at his feet.  
  
"Really, dear." Dr. Spinnit said in a sweet and girlish voice. "You're really only making this harder for yourself." The man offered her something that resembled a white blanket to Spinnit, who took it. "If you continue to struggle we'll be forced to, well, restrict you. Now," She continued, unfolding it. "Have you ever worn one of these?"  
  
Margarete stopped struggling and stared at the jacket with abhorrence. Even in her time she had seen these, used to render the mad harmless.  
  
Margarete felt the tears coming back. "I'm not mad." She thought. "Oh God, what have I done?"  
  
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So now Margarete's in the loony bin. ^ - ^ It just keeps getting better and better, huh? No, I'm just kidding. Just so you know, no, Margarete doesn't get placed in one of those rooms with the squishy walls (She's not dangerous), but it would've been fun to play with that, though. 


	5. Deal with the Devil

Wings of Destiny  
  
Chapter 4: Deal With the Devil  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Shadow of Destiny or the philosopher's stone  
  
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Margarete sat on her small bed, legs curled up against her chest, her arms wrapped around her knees.  
  
She had spent many restless nights staring out her barred window, unable to sleep over the phrenetic howls and cries of those with rooms attached to hers.  
  
The doctors here had promised her an early release if her behavior improved. But, not being able o stand the company outside her door, she had shut herself in her room, leaving the doctors to think she was perhaps not improving after all.  
  
Margarete rested her forehead upon her knees and began to sob softly. Things had gone from bad to worse upon her arrival here. Now, on top of having absolutely no one to turn to, she was stuck in this hellhole.  
  
"How are things, Margarete?"  
  
Margarete wrenched her head up, looking around. "Wha--? Who?"  
  
But she knew the answer even before she had asked the question. Only one person had that chillingly separated voice.  
  
"H- Homunculus! Where are you?" She asked the dismembered voice, crawling to her hands and knees on the bed. She heard a chuckle, and then he appeared before her across the room, standing underneath the surveillance camera.  
  
Margarete glanced apprehensively at the camera. Though it could not see Homunculus at the position he was standing, it would clearly be able to see her talking to him. But, then again, she really had no choice.  
  
"What are you doing here, Homunculus?" Margarete demanded. Homunculus shrugged.  
  
"I'm here to save you, of course. But if you'd rather stay here..." And he turned around to imply that he could leave at any moment.  
  
"No, wait!" Margarete said quickly, reaching her hand out as though it would stop him. "You can get me out of here?"  
  
Homunculus turned around slowly, smirking. "Well, of course."  
  
Margarete lowered her hand, happiness and hope swelling up inside her for the first time in many weeks.  
  
"This sounds too good to be true." Margarete thought, smiling slightly. Then, realizing something, her smile fell, replaced by a concerned frown. "Wait a minute, this IS too good to be true! Now I remember, Homunculus only saved Eike's life to prevent himself from destruction. An now look what's happened." Margarete felt tears begin to swim in her eyes, but pushed them back furiously.  
  
"Well?" Homunculus asked impatiently from where he stood in the corner.  
  
"What's the catch, Homunculus?"  
  
"Catch?" Homunculus smiled slightly. "Why would you suspect a 'catch'?" He chuckled. "Don't you trust me?"  
  
"Of course not!" Margarete spat. "I'm not stupid!"  
  
Homunculus looked for a while as though he were about to say "Oh?", but simply shrugged and looked out the window.  
  
"Such a pretty day out, wouldn't you agree?" He gave a sinister smile and turned back to Margarete. "You can't here the birds from in here though, can you?"  
  
Margarete knew what he was trying to do, and she regretted to admit that it was working. She'd do anything Homunculus asked her if only she could get out of here.  
  
Margarete sighed. "You're not going to tell me what you what until after I agree, are you?" Homunculus chuckled in reply. Margarete slid off the bed. "Well, all right."  
  
"Now we're talking. I suppose you'll need these, too." He dropped a red quarter- sleeve t-shirt and a pair of black capris at her feet (I think this is what she was wearing at ending A), then waved his hand at her as he turned around. "Hurry up and change, I promise I won't look."  
  
Margarete bent down and picked up her clothes, then crossed the room and entered a cramped bathroom. She quickly changed out of her hospital gown and into the 'normal' ones, stretching her legs a bit to try hem out. She had never worn men's clothes before.  
  
When she came out o the bathroom, Homunculus was laying calmly on the bed, one le bent with his hands resting behind his head. Margarete ran to the bedside.  
  
"What are you doing, they'll see you!"  
  
"Who?" Homunculus asked, giving her an I-know-something-you-don't-know smile.  
  
"Th--!" Margarete stopped mid-word as she pointed up to where the surveillance camera was. Or used to be, now.  
  
Homunculus pulled himself up into a sitting position. "Are we ready, then?"  
  
Margarete, still gazing at the scorched wall, nodded. Homunculus took hold of her arm, and suddenly they were disappearing into the red haze and black bubbles that always appeared when Homunculus apparated or disapparated.  
  
Margarete grabbed hold of Homunculus' wrist tightly, who winced almost inaudibly, as neon lights swirled around the pair.  
  
Then they were outside, in front of the Brum Museum and Library. Margarete look around in awe, then reluctantly at Homunculus.  
  
"I guess you'll be telling me what I have to do for you now."  
  
"I guess I will." Homunculus out his hands on his hips and turned to the museum and library. "I want you to bring me something. It is called the Sorcerer's stone, much like the Philosopher's stone, but with their differences. Of course," He turned back at Margarete. "You'll have to make it first."  
  
"Make it?"  
  
"You don't have a problem with that, do you? After all, your father was an alchemist. Well, so to speak."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Anyways," Homunculus continued, ignoring her comment. "I'm sure you'll find everything you need in the Library. I'll be seeing you."  
  
"But-wait!" Margarete turned to find herself alone. Sighing dejectedly, she made her way up the hill to the Brum Museum and Library. "What is he planning now?"  
  
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I decided to make Brum Museum (or library) into both. Let's just say the first Eckart still couldn't make up his mind, so he did both, (which he should have just done anyway). 


	6. After Hour Visits

Wings Of Destiny  
  
Chapter Five: After- Hour Visits  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Shadow of Destiny or Nicholas Flammel  
  
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Margarete leafed through a book titled "Rare Stones" boredly. She had gone over the same page for the fifth time before realizing she had taken in none of it. She had spent the day going through many books, but despite the several that mentioned the stone, the information was secluded and minimal.  
  
Margarete shut the book and pushed it away from her with a sigh. Now was the perfect time for a break, and she was anxious to get out and look around this interesting time.  
  
"Hugo always locked me up when he was out." Margarete thought as she left the Brum building and made her way downhill. "And I'm sure Homunculus won't mind if I take my nose out of a book for just a little bit."  
  
She stared in awe at all the people and buildings as she walked, her mind wandering. "He's very mysterious. But he's so cruel. How can someone so devastatingly handsome be so cold- hearted?" As she thought this, her face began to burn. "Oh God! I didn't mean that! I meant..." She mentally growled in frustration and kicked herself, before ducking into the Bar Zum Ei, as if to escape her own thoughts.  
  
"Welcome, Miss! Don't believe I've seen you around. Hungry?" Now that the bartender mentioned it, Margarete realized she hadn't eaten in more than nine hours. She nodded her head at the man. "Well here, why don't you sit here at this table?" He said as he ushered her to an empty table by the window. "Now, what would you like? Our special's very good, fresh shrimp and clams over zesty fettuccini with Alfred sauce."  
  
"Yes, that sounds delicious."  
  
"Okay, coming right up." He made his way down the stairs, and a young lady came up to her after him.  
  
"May I get you something to drink?"  
  
"Water will be fine, thank you."  
  
"Of course."  
  
This was nice. She had expected, when walking into the bar, a gang of rowdy men, yelling and stomping around drunkenly. But this was almost the exact opposite. Sure, the occasional drunk guy stumbled up the stairs on his way out, but overall it was quiet for this time of night.  
  
"Here you go." The bartender had returned with her food, and also, she realized with a small amount of surprise, the young waitress had also come and gone with her drink. She thanked him and set to her meal.  
  
The food was delicious, fully cooked, and the silverware was so clean! The water tasted different, but it wasn't a bad different at all. It actually tasted fresh, and not cloudy or gritty like she was accustomed to. She was definitely going to enjoy it here.  
  
Margarete glanced at the strip of paper that the bartender had laid in front of her when he set down her food. It had her meal typed on it, and beside it, a couple of numbers.  
  
"Oh! I forgot all about money!" She whispered into her hand. She looked down into her empty plate. "Well, it's too late now."  
  
"Are you ready to pay the bill, ma'am?" Having seen her pick up the bill, the bartender had come over to her table again.  
  
"I, um..." Her voice trailed off; she couldn't fid the words to tell him hat she had no money.  
  
The bartender seemed to read her mind through her hesitation. "Forgot your purse? That's okay; I'll start a tab for you. Just pay it next time you come in."  
  
Margarete sighed with relief. "Thank you so much."  
  
"No problem." He began to pick up her plate and glass as she got up and left.  
  
"I'm going to have to get a job here, if I expect to eat." She thought as she walked down Haupstr. But that brought up another problem. How was she going to maintain a job and create the Sorcerer's stone for Homunculus? Could she really do both without tempting his wrath? "I'll just have to see how things play out, I suppose."  
  
~~~~~~*~~~~~~  
  
Margarete fell asleep among the many books that were piled on her table that night. Mr. Eckert had been downstairs drinking a glass of water when he noticed the light on under the doorframe. Carefully inching the door open so that it would not creak, Mr. Eckert peered around the white door. He saw Margarete immediately.  
  
Despite the fact that the building was closed to all visitors at this hour, Mr. Eckert took pity on the girl, and fetched a blanket and pillow for her. Lifting her head up slowly and gently, he replaced the book she had fallen asleep on with the pillow and draped the blanket around her shoulders. She moaned softly and murmured something incoherent. Mr. Eckert smiled fatherly. He felt a strange familiarity for the girl that he could not explain. He brushed a strand out of her face and left, shutting the door gently behind him.  
  
~~~~~~*~~~~~~  
  
Homunculus appeared in the library five minutes before Margarete would wake. He walked over to the table she slept at and crossed his arms, watching her with a distant curiosity. Humans really did look angelic when they slept.  
  
Homunculus picked up the sheet of paper Margarete had been taking notes on. Just one sheet.  
  
Not much progress, then. He took a closer look at the neat, old age handwriting. The information she had gathered on the sheet was hardly satisfactory. Only a bit of useless historical information, half of which was not even true. He crumpled up the piece of paper and tossed it into a nearby bin. Margarete stirred.  
  
When she forced her eyes open groggily, she found Homunculus standing a few feet away, watching her. "What are you staring at?"  
  
"You, of course."  
  
Margarete flushed and turned her head away from him on the pillow; she would not notice it was there until later.  
  
"He had been watching me sleep?" Margarete thought embarrassingly. "I hope I didn't drool." Then to Homunculus, "Don't. I don't like it."  
  
"Of course. Well, you had better get back to work then, hadn't you?" He had walked over to a bookshelf as he was saying this, and now picked up an old, tattered leather book held closed with a tarnished copper clasp. "Oh, and this might help a bit." He walked back over and placed it on her lap. Margarete looked down at it and turned it around so that it faced her.  
  
"Hey, this book isn't even titled!" She looked up at Homunculus, but he was gone. "...Well he could of at least said good bye."  
  
~~~~~~*~~~~~~  
  
As the day waned, Margarete found herself more and more curious about, not the Sorcerer's stone, but the philosopher's. The book Homunculus had handed her had turned out to be a diary belonging to a Nicholas Flammel, the stone's creator.  
  
After reading so many entries, Margarete's mind wandered then to Homunculus. Whoever created the philosopher's stone, however they did it, had created the possibility of this artificial life. Had they known what would come of making it? She had to know more. Margarete stood up and searched the shelves with vigor, pulling book after book and placing them on a new table.  
  
Maybe she would find an explanation to his sudden interest for the Sorcerer's stone. Maybe she would find a break in that cold exterior of his.  
  
At that moment there was a knock on the door. Margarete jumped, and then looked at the door in confusion. Who would knock in a library?  
  
She walked over to the door and opened it, finding an old, balding man carrying a tray on the other side. Wordlessly, Margarete opened the door wider and sidestepped, watching him curiously as he placed the tray on an empty table.  
  
"I brought you some food." He said as he turned around, smiling. "I thought you might be hungry."  
  
"Oh. Well, thank you, but I don't have any money."  
  
"Nonsense! I don't expect anything." He stuck out his hand. "I don't think we've been introduced. I'm Mr. Eckert." Margarete took his hand and gave him her name, something nagging at the back of her mind. She had heard that name somewhere before...  
  
"Oh!" She remembered now! "Eike told me about you!" Mr. Eckert looked surprised.  
  
"You... knew Eike?"  
  
"Yes, for a couple of years, actually." Of course she had no way of knowing it had only been one day for him. Mr. Eckert looked pensive.  
  
"Hmm..."He pulled something out of his pocket, considering it. "Margarete, does... this by chance look familiar to you?" He indicated the small, white, dual- sided comb that he held in his hand. She recognized it immediately.  
  
"My comb!"  
  
"So it is yours." It was a statement rather than a question.  
  
"Yes, but... how did you get it?"  
  
With a sort of sad, nostalgic sigh, Mr. Eckert set off into his story, his eyes never leaving the comb.  
  
"I should have gone with him that night." Mr. Eckert stated at the end of his story. "Maybe then..."  
  
Margarete placed a hand over his, still encircling the comb. "You did what you could. And I have a feeling..." Margarete took in a shaky breath, ashamed of herself for what she was about to say. "That things... wouldn't have ended up much different. After meeting Eike, I'm finding myself believing in predestination more and more. I...." Margarete broke off, unable to find the words to continue.  
  
"Perhaps your right." Margarete was surprised to hear him agree with her, and yet not. He nodded at her. "Well, I should get back to work." As he walked past one of the tables, his eyes met the titles. He stopped and turned back to Margarete. "Are you studying about the Philosopher's Stone?"  
  
"Um. Yes."  
  
Mr. Eckert put the comb back in his pocket and pulled something else out. "Eike was interested in that stone, too. He borrowed this book from me. I think it might help."  
  
Margarete took the proffered book, thanking him as he stepped out.  
  
Once he was gone, Margarete looked down at the cover. It was black, decorated with a red pentagram- type symbol. She opened it and flipped a couple of pages. Suddenly she gave a small cry of shock and alarm as she recognized a name.  
  
The book was about her father, Dr. Wagner.  
  
~~~~~~*~~~~~~  
  
~~~~~~*~~~~~~  
  
Okay, I actually can't remember what that little book of Eike's was about (if it mentioned Dr. Wagner, or what.) I can't even remember the titled of the book. I'd go back in the game, but I lent it to someone. So if someone could just inform me, I'd really appreciate it.  
  
Quotes (that I am disclaiming):  
  
"What are you staring at?" "You, of course." "Don't. I don't like it." - (The Gunslinger and Man in Black, The Dark Tower Series by Stephen King.) 


	7. Lonely Hearts Club

Wings of Destiny  
  
Chapter 6: The Lonely Hearts Club  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Shadow of Destiny, or Nicolas Flamel  
  
** This chapter switches back and forth from Homunculus's point of view to Margarete's, so it might be a little bit confusing. Hopefully it won't, so I may not get so many flames. Oh, by the way, I have a feeling I'm misspelling Eckert's name. Can someone tell me, if I am, how to spell it correctly?**  
  
~~~~~~*~~~~~~  
  
~~~~~~*~~~~~~  
  
Margarete raced up the stairs of the Brum building, into the Art Museum section. She knew Mr. Eckert's office would be the room with the brown door, as it stood out from the rest. However, when she opened it, nobody sat at the office desk, save for a trio of kittens yawning and stretching lazily.  
  
She closed the door, and was heading for the stairs when one of the kittens streaked through her legs and through one of the open doors down the hallway. Thinking Mr. Eckert may be in one of those rooms, she followed the kitten.  
  
The room was bare except for the pictures that lined three walls. The fourth held the twin windows, which let the daylight stream through and illuminate the paintings. She looked at them each in turn, and the memories came flooding back. She traced a finger over the painting of the square, where a man was planting a tree. Suddenly she was more than appreciative that Carl Franssen ( A/N: I know I'm spelling this wrong, too) had been born in her time.  
  
Then she came upon one title 'a grieving mother', and Margarete's heartbeat sped up. She recognized the woman's face, weeping over an empty bed (she recognized the room, too.). The woman was no mother-it was her aunt.  
  
Margarete looked at the other paintings. Franssen painted things that really happened. Could her aunt really be grieving over her absence that much?  
  
"Of course." She thought. "We were all each other had... Then again, no. She wasn't all I had. Dana was always there for me, too. Oh, how could I have been so stupid and selfish? They cared for me, and I left them, and now my aunt really is all alone!" Margarete fled down the stairs and out of the Brum building. She had an idea. She was going to make things right again.  
  
~~~~~~*~~~~~~  
  
Margarete paused in the square, struggling to catch her breath. Perhaps from here she could find it. She looked around, desperately trying to remember. Five minutes later, something clicked, and she ran towards the old church.  
  
"He said he left it outside town..." Margarete found the gate, pushed it open, and walked out.  
  
It was a bit hard to find at first, but Margarete caught a glimpse of something glint under the cover of a couple of bushes. She pulled the brush away, revealing the complex mechanism of Hugo's time machine.  
  
"I think I understand..." Margarete murmured as she brushed her fingers over the bronze surface. "The machine in our basement, father's old laboratory, that thing brought us to this time. And this... this takes us back." She pressed a random button, and the glass lid drew back with a soft hum.  
  
"And where do you think you're going?"  
  
Margarete jumped in alarm and whirled around, nearly stumbling over one of the machine's legs. Homunculus smirked arrogantly, his arms crossed over his chest. "Not home, I hope?"  
  
At first Margarete was at a loss for words, her voice gone, as if it had fled from fright. She struggled a bit, her mouth moving up and down, like a fish. Finally, her voice crept back to her.  
  
"I, ah, was just going to visit..." She didn't sound too convincing.  
  
"I hope you didn't think that just because you took a permanent vacation to another era, that I wouldn't be able to find you."  
  
"Of course not." That was the truth; she hadn't forgotten his time-shifting powers.  
  
"But why are you leaving so soon, Margarete?" His voice took a different tone now, like he was teasing her. "I thought you were having fun. This is where you belong, in any case."  
  
"I... what?" His statement caught her off guard, she was unsure what he meant by saying 'this is where you belong'.  
  
"It's a pity Eike didn't tell you. I grow so tired of having to explain everything to everyone."  
  
"Well perhaps you wouldn't have to explain things so often if you didn't screw around with other people's destinies for your own benefit."  
  
"Ooh, touché." Homunculus chuckled. "When I learned that Hugo planned to leave you in this time to wipe Eike out of existence, I traveled twenty years before this time. You see, you had just been born, and were just about Margarete's, the REAL Margarete's, age. I took you to the feudal ages, and switched you with the one you now know as Dana." Margarete gasped as Homunculus finished.  
  
"No! It can't be true! It just can't!"  
  
"Well it would, in the very least, explain why you look nothing like your parents or your brother."  
  
Margarete still refused to believe it. "You're lying, you have to be!" But in the back of her mind she knew he was not. It made too much sense. Tears filled her eyes. Hugo, not her brother?  
  
Homunculus rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. "Oh, please. Really, what would I benefit from lying about something like this? And must you always cry? Ugh, I swear."  
  
Twin tears of hot fury raced themselves down Margarete's cheeks. Her fists shook slightly on either side of her. "You! This is all your fault! None of this would have ever happened if it weren't for you!"  
  
Homunculus sighed. "You know, I'm really getting tired of being blamed for everything. Why don't you blame Eike, too. Hugo didn't seem to have a problem with that. Then again, look where he ended up."  
  
Homunculus's last retort went too far. Margarete let out a cry and tackled him, who yelled in pain as they both went down.  
  
Homunculus winced as the sides of Margarete's fists came down on his chest. He evaporated quickly, but suspected a couple of his ribs were already broken. He reappeared a few feet away from Margarete, who got up and came at him again. Ready for her this time, he held out his hands. Margarete stopped, inches from him, her fists frozen where they were about to beat his chest again. Margarete sobbed uncontrollably, sinking to the ground against Homunculus's legs.  
  
Homunculus sat down as well, leaning against the time machine's leg and holding his wounded chest. He had spent too much energy binding Margarete's movements, and was afraid he would lose consciousness soon.  
  
He hadn't expected that sort of reaction from her, but clearly the subject of her would-be brother was an oversensitive one. Margarete stopped struggling suddenly, shaking slightly as she overcame her tears. Still pissed, she slowly, carefully got up into a sitting position, feeling no resistance. She looked at Homunculus, who was sitting right in front of her. He looked like he was about to lose consciousness.  
  
Margarete immediately regretted her actions. Even if Homunculus deserved to be killed, she would be no better than him if it were her hand he died by. Whatever he had done, fate would take its course, it did not need her help.  
  
Margarete grabbed Homunculus's ankle and murmured his name, shaking it slightly. Homunculus's head rolled and he looked at her, too weak to muster a sufficient glare.  
  
"Homunculus, I'm sorry, are you all right?" At this comment Homunculus gave her a very clear 'no shit Sherlock' look. Margarete ignored it and got to her feet. "God, I can't believe this, look what I've done!" She stood there for a while, at a loss for what to do. Finally, Homunculus spoke.  
  
"A couple of my ribs may be broken." Margarete winced, and then began to dash towards town.  
  
"I'll go get some help!"  
  
"No!" Homunculus cried, wincing in pain afterwards.  
  
Margarete turned around, perplexed. "What? Why?... oh. Oh, right." How could she have forgotten about those blood red eyes? Not only that, but the existence of a heart between those ribs was doubtable. Scientists would have a field day with him. "Well..." She looked around, trying to come up with something. "The only place I know to take you is the Brum building. But I suppose it's better than leaving you out here."  
  
Margarete tried to place her arms around Homunculus to support him, but he pushed her hands away.  
  
"Don't touch me."  
  
Margarete drew up to her full height and placed her hands on her hips. "Don't be silly! You'll let me take you to the building, or I'm going to break some more of your ribs."  
  
Homunculus could only glare as Margarete pulled him up and placed one of his arms around her shoulders as they made their way to Brum Museum and Library. He would have most of his energy by tomorrow morning, he figured. All he needed was a good rest. Until then, he would have to comply with Margarete's whims. Hopefully she knew what she was doing.  
  
Margarete helped Homunculus sit down on the front steps of the building before running up to Mr. Eckert's office. Thankfully, he was there this time.  
  
"Mr. Eckert, may I borrow a bedroom? It would only be for a couple of nights."  
  
Thrown of guard by her question, he paused slightly before answering her. "...Uh... of course. Stay here as long as you like, no charge."  
  
"Thank you!" And with that she was back downstairs within a heartbeat.  
  
"Here." Margarete shifted Homunculus to the small bed in the room she had found, and he lay down. "You're so light! Are your bones hollow?"  
  
"They might as well be, shouldn't they?"  
  
Margarete giggled, and then stopped abruptly. "Oh, I'm sorry, that wasn't funny, was it?" She bowed her head in apology, and then changed the subject. Homunculus smiled inwardly. Actually what he said wasn't really meant to be serious, but he didn't know why he found her reaction so... endearing. "Um, I'm not quite sure how to mend broken ribs, but I should probably brace them as much as I can." (**A/N: actually, as a woman living in the renaissance, she most likely DID know how to bandage broken ribs. But I don't, so therefore she doesn't. Isn't that a shame? **) She pinched her lower lip in thought. "I... I think it's best if we got that shirt off."  
  
Homunculus simply lay there, and Margarete was about to repeat herself when he pulled himself up.  
  
"Careful."  
  
"Of course."  
  
Homunculus slowly shifted out of his shirt, holding back cries of pain. Margarete tried to help here and there, but he suspected she was either too frightened to hurt him more, or too embarrassed to touch him.  
  
Homunculus's long sleeved shirt off, Margarete could see the purple and blue bruises showing vibrantly against his pale flesh.  
  
"Uh, okay, hold on." Margarete left the room; she needed some bandages and perhaps something to stabilize his chest. The best she could find for that, however, was a book; and she doubted that would help much. She returned with only a roll of bandages.  
  
"I think this might help." Margarete sat on the edge of the bed, and began to roll the bandages around his chest. With enough of them, perhaps it would brace him some, but Margarete could only assume. She hated being so inexperienced in such an emergency.  
  
She tried to bandage him as gently a possible, but she could see the pain in his eyes. Margarete could find no words to explain how sorry she felt, but then again, no words would have to.  
  
Pain coursed through his body with every breath he drew. He could tell Margarete was trying to be gentle, and he wondered why she was doing this after all he had done. He had insulted her and used her, but she still showed compassion to him. It was very strange, but he didn't want her to stop. For some reason, he wanted her to stay this close to him.  
  
"There." Margarete finished and pulled her hands away. Her voice was trembling. "All done." She sat there for a moment, seemingly admiring her work, but Homunculus she could tell she had no idea what to do next. He rolled backwards, laying down, and closed his eyes. What she did at this point was no concern of his. There was silence, and then the bed creaked and shifted as Margarete stood up. He heard footsteps, and the groan and click as the door opened and closed again. Homunculus opened his eyes; she was gone. He tried to evanesce, but nothing happened except more pain shooting down his limbs. He still didn't have enough energy. Homunculus gave a defeated sigh and closed his eyes again.  
  
~~~~~~*~~~~~~  
  
No amount of commitment was going to get Margarete to concentrate. She rubbed her forehead and eyes with both palms, exhausted. She had lost track of time after bringing Homunculus to the building, which had been around noon. Since then she had steered clear of the room he now occupied, attempting to study to take her mind off him.  
  
Knowing she would get nowhere tonight, she went back to the room to check on Homunculus's condition.  
  
He was still there, of course; he didn't have much choice on the matter. Margarete sat at the foot of the bed, watching him as her eyelids grew heavier. Gravity drew her head to the mattress, and she was asleep within seconds.  
  
~~~~~~*~~~~~~  
  
Homunculus opened his eyes when he felt pressure on the foot of the bed. Margarete was sprawled across the end sideways; her breathing the slow and even beats of a sleeper.  
  
He didn't know why, but he was drawn to her, just as she had been drawn to this age. He sat up, the pain not as great anymore, and, without thinking, stroked her cheek, pushing hair out of her face as he did so. His finger trailed down to her mouth, and he brushed her bottom lip with his thumb. Then, as if just realizing what he had done, he quickly drew back, only inviting more pain as he did so.  
  
He shouldn't be feeling this way about her. But he wouldn't make a big deal out of it. As soon as Margarete completed the Sorcerer's stone for him, he would no longer have to worry about his emotions. He wouldn't have to worry about his physical weakness, either.  
  
It would all be memories soon.  
  
~~~~~~*~~~~~~  
  
~~~~~~*~~~~~~  
  
Wow. How much did that suck?  
  
No, really. How bad was it? *Covers eyes with hand* Too scared too watch! Okay, but it's all right to send me flames. I actually like them. They tend to point out my flaws so I can fix them.  
  
P.S.: That wasn't meant to be subtle.  
  
I noticed a whole bunches of places where I could have added dirty undertones when I reread it. I hope you didn't though. The whole shirt thing was SUPPOSED to be innocent... 


End file.
